There's a cost to extreme wealth.

I wager this: when you're known as a billionaire, you can never make a new authentic friendship. I'll soften that just a bit to weed out edge cases: you might be able to make friends with other billionaires. Might.

At that point, you are too shiny. You become an object, not a human—perhaps even a god to some. You’ve achieved insane wealth, and others want a piece of it.

Think about Elon Musk. Anyone who approaches that man will likely have opportunity on their mind. For most of us, a high-salaried, well-networked job from Elon could be life-changing. The right introduction could be all it takes. And let's not even get started on the crazy parties and wild experiences you might have if Elon invited you.

This phenomenon isn’t too dissimilar from the show Shark Tank or even the Silicon Valley venture capital ecosystem. VCs have the power to make a company and change the lives of entrepreneurs.

It's an odd power balance—a strange, new-age capitalist aristocracy.

When everyone wants you for a piece of your wealth, it's natural for defense systems to go up. How can you trust anyone to truly want to know and love you? Would anyone around you stay if you lost everything?

I certainly wouldn't mind having a billion in the bank, but it would come at a cost. You would never know who is there for you and who is there for what you can give them.